


a love supreme

by mbk23 (orphan_account)



Category: Homeland
Genre: Jazz - Freeform, Love, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mbk23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I toyed with the idea for a while. Then yesterday wrote it down.<br/>Sorry, It's just a very silly short scene.<br/>It does not really fill any prompt but I thank all the good people at the lj c/q community. You rock!</p>
    </blockquote>





	a love supreme

**Author's Note:**

> I toyed with the idea for a while. Then yesterday wrote it down.  
> Sorry, It's just a very silly short scene.  
> It does not really fill any prompt but I thank all the good people at the lj c/q community. You rock!

"Ready? We got to leave no, or we won't make it. And you'd hate to miss it. That I can guarantee."  
"Ready. So where are we going? What is it that I can't miss?"  
"You'll find out soon."  
"It's not fair give me a hint, anything!"  
"I can't. It's half of the fun."  
"Quinn!"  
"Get in the car, Carrie, we're late"  
"Theater? Movie? Ballet? Not that awful greek restaurant again?"  
"You said you liked it! Anyway it's not that."  
"Got it! It must be that play Maggie told us about"  
"What if say no?"  
"It's ok. I would have liked to see it"  
"See...you're such a control freak"  
"I'm not. It's just that I like to know"  
"And you're incapable of waiting."  
"I'm not!"  
"..."  
"Shit, stop laughin' at me!"  
"You know, maybe I should blindfold you"  
"Quinn, this is ridiculous!"  
"But funny. Maybe you can just close your eyes till we get there"  
"Fuck me"  
"Well, I'll gladly do it, but you got to wait for that too. And don't steal my lines!"  
"Just drive, Quinn".

Three hours later. Back in the car.

"God I had never been to a McCoy Tyner gig, that was...incredible. He is one of the greats that is still out there...I listened so many times to those Coltrane Quartet recordings and Maggie got me The Real McCoy for my birthday one time. Still have it somewhere."  
"and he is from Philly"  
"Did not know that"  
"Yes, when I was a little kid there was a barbershop, round my block, the owner was a big old guy, huge jazz fan. He claimed to know Tyner. Childhood friends or something like that". He runs his right hand through her hair, gently caressing her cheeck.  
"Nice story...you know I should have seduced you years ago". And while she says this she kisses his hand.  
"You should have. We were meant to be, anyway". He says this right away, matter of factly like a self evident truth.  
"Hey wait...you were the one not believing in fate or what was it? horoscopes...?"  
"Are you holding my letter against me? Now?"  
"..."  
She does not reply, but her laughter is priceless. This, this constant, on-going, playful teasing is one of the countless things she treasurs about them.  
A passion dance to say it like a famous McCoy Tyner's tune.  
"Glad you laugh about it"  
"I don't, my beacon!"  
"Oh, come on Carrie!"  
"No, I was thinking that it rings so true."  
"What?"  
"What you just said"  
"What you just said. We were meant to be. I feel it, like there is an unseen tide, a powerful force, call it whatever you want, that brought us back to each other again and again, over the years. It ties us together. It’s just there."  
"You know how I feel."  
"And so do I. It’s a lot and sometimes it scares me and reassures me all at once."  
"Yeah me too."  
He holds her hand.  
"I’m so grateful Quinn, seriously."  
"Oh not more than I am. Every fucking day of our lives."  
"That’s sweet, I like the “our” part."  
"You knew that already."  
"Yeah, well but it’s good to hear, we were never the best talkers in the past. Not around personal stuff."  
"Right, but things have changed."  
"And for the better."  
"Can you believe it? It’s us we’re talking about."  
"Sounds pretty surreal uh?"  
"In a good way."  
"We still have to make up for lost time."  
"I’m all for it."  
"So…did you have anything else on your mind for the night?  
"Mmm, actually I did. Wait till we get back home."  
"As you wish."  
"Hey what have you done to my restless Carrie? Now you can wait?"  
"Don’t know about your Carrie, probably she’s still on cloud nine after the McCoy gig…all your fault."  
"I can deal with that."  
She stays silent then all of a sudden she kisses him, and it is deep and passionate, he almost looses control but somehow manages to pull over and stop. They are kind of breathless for a little while.  
"Fuck Carrie! I made it through the worst and now I don’t want to die kissing you, or maybe I do, that would be a good way to go, but give us at least another fifty years!"  
"I had to do it, you know you’re just…you should look at your face right now."  
"Jesus we better get home soon."  
"Look who’s the patient guy!"  
"I can slow down if you will."  
"You’re the driver, your choice."

Let’s just say It takes them less than fifteen minutes to get back home  
"Here we are."  
"You wanna stay here?"  
"..."  
"Quinn, wh..."

But she can’t finish the sentence, Quinn kisses her and this time they don’t have to stop. They get out of that car a good hour later, blissfully smiling and half naked.

"So…"  
"So I…I… wanted to do it properly, got a good bottle of champagne in the fridge,Larmandier-Bernier, candles…but I failed"  
"No you have not, Quinn, you always deliver"

They both laugh at this.  
"What now?  
"Anything. Anything you want Carrie"  
"Yeah, why don’t you go open that bottle?"

She went straight to the living room, looking for one specific record, she finds it and puts it on the turntable. It was Bill Evans, Waltz For Debby, one of her dad’s favorites, she remembers so damn well how he would go on for hours raving about Evans trio and the live Village Vanguard recordings he did with young, ill-fated double bassist Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian. She was glad to have those albums he had cherished. The room was still half dark when Quinn came back from the kitchen, holding the bottle and two champagne flutes, though Carrie has just lighted three candles.

"Dance with me, will you?"

He holds her close, so tenderly she almost sheds a tear and they start slow dancing, entwined, both overwhelmed and lost in that moment to the notes of “My Foolish Heart”.


End file.
